-LRB- CNN -RRB- -- The Whitney Houston headlines last week sent a familiar shiver through me .

In the 1970s , I ran one of the leading entertainment business public relations firms . Celebrity clients were wildly indulging themselves , accountable to no one . It was money , power and prestige , with no one to say , `` That 's enough . ''

Drugs and alcohol were endemic . Today , the conversation revolves around prescription drugs , but back then we were into more basic mind-altering substances : pot , psychedelics , cocaine and heroin .

To be truthful , I had an amazing run before it all turned to garbage .

My office , on the Sunset Strip in West Hollywood , was set up like a huge living room with couches , overstuffed pillows on the floor , rock star posters lining the walls and a coffee table , the centerpiece of which was a large crystal bowl , filled at all times with a generous supply of cocaine .

The house rules were `` help yourself if you 're here on business -- but no take-outs ! '' We were regularly visited by our clients , including The Rolling Stones , Pink Floyd , The Doors and Steppenwolf . As you could imagine , my office was a very popular place .

But 29 years ago , I stood at the precipice with a decision to make . With a career of impressive accomplishments in the rear-view mirror , I had what looked like only despair and death ahead of me . Alcoholism and drug addiction had rendered me into what the `` Big Book '' of Alcoholics Anonymous refers to as `` pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization . '' The choice seemed simple . Choose life or death .

Do I acknowledge I have a problem , or do I continue to live in denial ?

Do I listen to my friends and family , or do I seek my own counsel ?

Do I continue to deteriorate mentally and physically , or do I say , `` I 've had enough ? ''

Do I choose to live , or do I want to die ?

If I once had a dream , I thought , it was long ago shattered . If I once had a dream , it 's floating face down in a bottle of Jack Daniels . If I once had a dream ... ahh , screw it , I ai n't no Martin Luther King Jr. .

Throwing in the towel and surrendering to admitting I had a serious problem should have been the obvious thing to do , given the state I was in . But at the time , change seemed impossible , unimaginable , incomprehensible and downright insane . Insane was the right word , all right , but it described my state of mind .

Alcohol and drugs are subtle foes ; cunning , baffling and powerful . I seemed to be the last one to know I was in big trouble . When my high-profile career started to fall apart , it was other people 's fault . When my substantial income dried up , my business manager was to blame . When the beautiful house I so dearly loved was finally foreclosed , it was the bank that was screwing me . When she finally could n't take it anymore and left , I knew she was the type to do this to me . When my friends began to disappear , they were scum and did n't deserve me . And when , at last , my only friends , my drugs and alcohol turned on me , I knew it was over .

And so a journey of unimaginable proportions began .

Not to any outward destination . No rehab , no trip to a far-off spa . I did n't move to another city , as if a geographic change would fix it . No , I did n't have to travel anywhere , except into the mirror , and by peeling the onion of my soul . The journey was within , to at long last discover where the real problem resided .

It was , of course , in me .

What a surprise -- with the loving help and support of a 12-step program , I found the real culprit . We in recovery refer to alcoholism as a spiritual sickness . And if you look that up in the dictionary , you 'll find a photo of me . `` Mr. Spiritual Sickness of 1982 . ''

If you ask me nicely , I might show you a picture of that lost soul that I still carry around in my wallet . Yes , I had long hair and a beard , the smug look of false confidence on my face and even the obligatory turquoise jewelry of that era . But look more closely , and you 'll see in my eyes shallow pools of emptiness , pupils like pinholes from the daily consumption of narcotics . As a friend remarked when he saw the photo , `` The lights are on , but nobody 's home . ''

After you shake your head in disbelief , and look up at me again wondering how this was possible and how I became such a different person , I will offer you an explanation .

I 'm a recovering drug addict and alcoholic who was spared from a life of misery , incarceration and death . I 've been spared from the life of self-centeredness that led me to care very little about others and only about myself . I 've been spared from the countless fears of inadequacy , failure , success , intimacy and anything else that threatened my well-guarded defenses . I 've been spared a life of darkness and shown a path into the light .

We do n't yet know why Whitney died , but we know she struggled with addiction . It 's a pity that now , Whitney will not have the option I had .

Follow CNN Opinion on Twitter

Join the conversation on Facebook

The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Gary Stromberg .

@highlight

Gary Stromberg says he easily could have died from addiction to narcotics , alcohol

@highlight

He ran a famous rock star PR firm , with a large bowl of cocaine as centerpiece

@highlight

Stromberg lost his house , business , wife , money , and blamed everyone but himself

@highlight

He admitted the problem was inside himself and began his journey to recovery